Deadweight
by margotc.ulysses
Summary: Neville was chosen and is now the Boy Who Lived. Harry’s parents were never killed, but Harry is kidnapped and forced into a very difficult life. Loosely based on the film “Gardens of the Night”.
1. Chapter 1

Deadweight

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

Summary:

Neville was chosen and is now the Boy Who Lived. Harry's parents were never killed, but Harry is kidnapped and forced into a very difficult life. Loosely based on the film "Gardens of the Night".

M-Mature.

"_Slavery is one of those monsters of darkness to whom the light of truth is death." –_FredrickDouglas

ooooooooooooooooooooo

I was only few months short of nine when it happened.

It was a nice street we lived on, in a nice town, Godric's Hollow. It was mostly a muggle community, but there were a few wizards around and they had some kids I hung around with. I knew some muggle kids too, but they seemed kinda dull, really, always wanting to play Nintendo and watch TV. I was no good at the games, 'cause we didn't have them at home. My Mom thought it would desensitize you or something like that.

Being a wizard (especially in a muggle town) we didn't start school 'till eleven. Before that usually parents taught us to read and all.

So, really, I spent most of my time with my family, and I loved them, really I did.

When I was little under three months old my mom got pregnant again. At eleven months I had a little brother. He was a small guy, with brown hair and hazel eyes. Over time he got plenty of freckles, while I stayed pale and spotless as the day I was born.

My parents were always big on the family life and wanted plenty of children. Since I can remember they've talked about me getting more brothers and sisters.

By the time me and Benjamin were three my little sister was born. Beatrix, Bee for short. Tiny, smaller than Benj and I, she was the only one of us to get Mom's red hair, though she had the same eyes as Benjamin, and the same skin as me.

Harry, Benjamin, and Bee. Cute, I know.

My parents were the loving, nurturing type. The kind of people who both take work off when their kid is sick, strict only when necessary, and completely ruthless to anyone that threatened their family.

Dad was fun and hung around with his long time friends, Sirius and Remus a lot of the time. They'd been friends in school. Though, another old friend of theirs, Peter, had died mysteriously a few months after Benjamin was born.

Mom was more content at home than out, spending a lot of time indoors with us, or in the living room talking with her friends, or reading sometimes.

Anyway, we were happy, and healthy, and loved. I'm trying to tell you that I would have done anything to stop what happened from happening.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

I was walking home from Anthony's, Anthony Goldstien's, when a car pulled over. I was used to cars, and people in our neighborhood were close and usually safe, so I wasn't nervous.

It was a nice, silver, compact car. A strong looking man, tall, with brown hair and golden eyes poked his head out from the driver side window. He looked at me oddly for a minute, before smiling brightly, then he spoke, "Hey, kid. You know where I could find Walnut Street?" His voice was warm and kind.

I cocked my head, thinking, "Umm. Yeah, I think..," I looked up, biting my lip, "Oh! Yeah! That's the street next to mine!" I smiled, happy to help, "Uh huh, you're getting pretty close, it's only a few blocks forward, I think."

When the man grinned, oh boy, was I delighted, feeling all grown up, like this nice guy was glad he asked me for help instead of some adult.

"Well, kid, thanks a lot! My sister lives on that street. She's about to have a baby. So, I gotta get there soon to give her a ride for her doctor's appointment."

"Oh!" I spoke with even more enthusiasm, "Yeah, you mean Mrs. Brown?" Some muggle friend of my mom's lived on that street, Julie Brown; she was about ready to burst the last I saw of her.

"Yeah!" his smile was even wider, "Hey, you want a ride home, kid? For helping me out so much?"

I licked my lips, unsure, "Uh…I dunno." He was still a stranger, after all. Then again, it was boiling out that day, and I still had a fifteen minute walk ahead of me.

He didn't seem upset, "It's alright if you don't want one, kid. I'm just trying to say thank you. Say, how about when we get there I go in and tell your parents how smart you are, huh? Able to help me out and all."

That did sound great, I loved it when my parents were proud of me, "Well, sure I guess," I smiled shyly.

"Great, kid! Hop in!" he gestured to the back door; I pulled it open, and did what he said.

He handed me a soda, it was in the can but already open. I was parched and drank eagerly, muttering thanks.

"What's your name, pal?" he started driving.

"Harry," I said, then took a big gulp, "What's yours?"

He glances at me in the rear view mirror, "My name? My name's John. John Brown."

I wish I'd realized at the time that Mrs. Brown's maiden name was Parker.

I was feeling real drowsy all the sudden. I tried not to fall asleep, but I couldn't help my eyes slipping closed.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

When I came to I was in a small apartment, laying on a queen sized bed.

I looked up at the cracked white ceiling, feeling groggy and confused. Sitting up, I looked forward and saw a little girl with long light blond hair sitting on front of a TV. I coughed, making her turn around, she had bright blue eyes.

"Who are you?" my voice was young and feeble.

The girl licked her lips, eyeing me with contemplation, and then she said, "Claribel," she turned back to the television.

"What, but, where are we?" I was anxious, but not as anxious as I should have been. The girl, Claribel, didn't respond, but just kept staring at the black and white film of Cowboys and Indians.

I became more and more panicked as I stood and looked around the room, wandering out and into a tiny kitchen. John was there, looking through the refrigerator.

"Hey!" I said, feeling foolishly hopeful.

He turned around, suddenly seeming less handsome and more fat, "Oh, hey there, Harry!"

My face crumpled, "Where am I?"

The man smiled, looking sympathetic, he set down the sausage and block of cheese he was holding and kneeled in front of me, "Darling." His voice was soft, he put his hand on my shoulder, "Buddy, don't you remember?"

My eyebrows creased, "What? Remember what?"

He made a tsking noise and continued, "Harry. I don't know how to tell you this, pal. I guess you must have been asleep…But, Harry, when we got to your house, there…Well, there was a fire. And your family, they, they were all hurt, Harry."

I gasped, eyes wide, "No! No, that can't be true. You…you're lying! I know it!"

John looked so sad then, it was almost enough for me to believe him, "Harry, they didn't make it. None of them. The fire burnt your whole house to the ground. I'm sorry, honey. I'm so sorry."

I was shaking now, my head nodding back and forth, "No! M-my sister! Benjamin! They can't be! They're- they're too little! Bee's only five!"

He nodded, "Oh, Harry. It's sad, I know. I'm sorry."

I blinked, "B-but, why am I here? Where's Sirius, my godfather? Where's Moony?"

John sighed, looking near tears, "Harry, they were over, with your mom and dad. They died too, Harry. I'm sorry."

A sob escaped my mouth, "No!" tears streaked down my cheeks, "No, you're lying, I know it! They can't be!" But it was so possible, Sirius was always starting fires, he put them out, of course, but he always started them. What if it got out of control, what if..?

Sobs were racking my tiny body now, I fell to the ground in the fetal position. John's arms encircled me, "Oh, Jesus, Harry. I know how hard it is to lose your family. I know, my family died when I was ten. It was so hard, Harry. But, I know you can do this! You can get through it!"

I kept crying and crying, my whole body quivering, "A-and Otis?"

John's voice was low and soothing, "Who's Otis, pal?"

I sobbed harder, "M-my dog!"

John rubbed my back as he spoke, "Well, Harry, I don't know about Otis. Dogs are very smart, though. Maybe he got out and ran away."

"R-really?"

"Sure, in fact, since you raised him, I would count on it. I bet he's out having the time of his life right now."

I sniffed, "I hope so."

I cried for hours that day, I cried all week. Time passed and I barely noticed. I wanted my mom. I wanted my dad. I wanted Benjamin and Bee. I was so scared and lonely. John was very kind, he fed me pancakes and all kinds of sweets, but I was too upset to eat. I lost a lot of weight; I barely slept or ate for months.

A boy came and lived with us a few days after I got there, his name was Ronnie. Ronnie was maybe sixteen or seventeen, he never told me how old he was exactly. Ronnie had mousy brown hair, cut sloppily and shaggy, he had a pointed face and angry, murky blue eyes. He always looked at me and Claribel with contempt.

Claribel was always around, she was mostly quiet, but she slept in the same room as me, and seemed alright. She would leave with one of John's friends every once in a while and come back the next day, or sometimes a few days or a week later. She never told me where she went, but I would understand soon enough.

I wasn't sure how long I'd been living with John, Ronnie, and Claribel when my life took a turn for the worse. It could have been a few months or a year and a half. I'd never left the apartment in all that time, so I couldn't be sure.

One night both Ronnie and Claribel were gone. This was pretty usual, so I just stayed in the room Claribel and me slept in, like I always did. This night was different though, John came in shortly after they had gone, and told me I needed a bath. I was a bit confused, 'cause for the most part John didn't care when I bathed, but I wasn't about to argue with him.

I had been in the bath maybe five or ten minutes when John came in, he looked a little out of it. His eyes were glazed and his pupils dilated. He came and sat next to the tub, eyes never leaving my body.

This part is a little hard for me to talk about. You can probably piece most of what happened here together yourself, but I suppose you should hear it from me.

After he sat he started petting my hair, and before long he was rubbing my back, and then my thighs, and he spoke to me and said, "Harry, did anybody ever touch you at home? Your daddy, or your godfather?"

I didn't understand.

His hand wandered lower, in between my legs, "Did anybody touch you here, Harry?"

That was the first time John touched me. It was horrible and confusing and when he did it I panicked, and went still and looked at him, all horrified and sad.

He ignored my look though, and kept talking, "This is our secret, yeah, Harry? Because we need each other, and I understand what you've gone through, I do. Harry, you know you're my boy, right?"

I pretty much trusted John before this and I can't explain how I felt about him after it happened, it was almost like I trusted him more for a while, but I hated him too. I really hated him. I wanted my mom so bad. I wanted people that wouldn't do this to a little kid.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

It hadn't been too much longer after that, John was touching me regularly, Claribel was disappearing more often, that John started whoring me.

At the time, I really didn't get it. I was so confused about the whole situation. The first time John left me with a man it was a middle aged guy, nice looking, a fatherly type.

The man told me about his kids, he had daughter my age, he said, a son a little older than me. I didn't know how fucked that was until I was older. When he touched me I whimpered, tears welling in my eyes, this didn't stop him, not at all. If anything I think it just turned him on more. He moaned when I actually began crying.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

By the time I was eleven I was getting taken by John's friends just as much as Claribel was.

This one night, John was driving me to some place about an hour from where we were, "This guy's real nice, Harry. A good, solid, dependable, kind of a guy. He's a judge. Say, take a bath first, alright? He likes that. Hop in the tub when you get there."

I did. I took a bath, and then went into the Judge's son's room. I waited a bit, before he showed up.

The Judge was a skinny, balding, older man. His voice was pretty weak, "Oh. You got dressed again." He eyed my jeans and t-shirt, "Hey, why don't you put this on?" he held up a dirt and grass stained soccer jersey and a pair of black shorts with "12" written on the left leg.

Later, I was waiting for John, and the Judge's wife showed up, she was a short and stocky woman with her brown hair pulled into a severe bun.

"Who's this?" she asked him, he told her I was some business partner's nephew.

"Oh, well, why don't you go upstairs and see the kids? You're Uncle will be here soon?" I nodded and followed her up the stairs.

I was lead into a sort of play room, there were two kids, around my age, a girl in a tutu and boy in a very familiar soccer jersey and matching shorts.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

**Massive first chapter. Hope you like it, give me some feedback, yeah? Next update will be soon.**


	2. Chapter 2

Deadweight

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

Summary:

Neville was chosen and is now the Boy Who Lived. Harry's parents were never killed, but Harry is kidnapped and forced into a very difficult life. Loosely based on the film "Gardens of the Night".

M-Mature.

"_Hating people is like burning down your house to kill a rat."- _HenryFosdick

Oooooooooooooooo

I couldn't stand John, but for a while he was all I had, and as much as I hated him for what he did to me, at that time I also loved him.

"You're going through a transformation, Harry." I'd been ten, and horribly depressed with my life, his voice was soft and understanding, he stroked my hair as he spoke, "You're like the caterpillar turning into the butterfly. You think that doesn't hurt? It hurts a lot, pal, but it has to happen if you want to come out beautiful in the end. It's an amazing thing, what you're going through."

Oooooooooooooooo

I got my Hogwarts letter, just like my parents said I would, when I turned eleven. I couldn't bring myself to care. When I saw the monogram on the back, I couldn't look. I went into the bathroom, tore it up, and flushed it down the toilet. I tried my best to block it out of my mind. After all, my parents were dead to me. My whole family was dead. I didn't deserve anymore that I had. I really should have just died with them, and I would have if it weren't for John.

Another reason to resent and revere him.

Oooooooooooooooo

Around the time I was twelve I started getting really close to Claribel. We talked and watched the television together, even though I didn't like it much.

Claribel couldn't read, I thought this was real odd, but I didn't make fun of her or anything. So I read to her, we didn't have a lot to pick from, only a few children's books.

I read her the Junglebook. She loved it. That was the first time I ever heard her laugh; she never laughed, or smiled even, when she watched the TV. We let the books take us somewhere else, someplace far away from the shithole we were in now.

Claribel was surprisingly sweet and honest. I'd always figured her to be cold and mean, but nothing was farther from the truth. She was an angel compared to me.

She really was an angel, to tell you the truth, from the fair hair to the white skin to her nice and loveable charm. She liked me too, something I never really figured out.

Me and Claribel, we hated our lives. Really, we hated them. We hated the things we were made to do. We hated the people we had to associate with. We hated John and Ronnie. We hated, and hated.

Claribel didn't have a good life before all this like I did. She was raised pretty rough; her mom had lost her mind after her dad's death and had sold Claribel to John for $120, a bottle of Jack Daniel's, and a pack of Parliaments. Claribel was pretty sure her mother was in a mental hospital now.

Once, when we were thirteen, me and Claribel kissed. It was kinda messy, since neither of us had ever kissed anybody before (nobody we went to ever wanted that) but it was nice. We kissed a few more times after that, but never went further.

"Claribel?" I asked her one day, "You don't wanna have sex with me, do you?"

She cocked her head, studying me, "Well, Harry, I like you a lot. But, I don't think so. I mean, anybody can have sex." She smiled, "It's not like it would be special or anything, all things considering."

I chuckled a bit at that, "No kidding."

Oooooooooooooooo

When we were fourteen Claribel and me decided to runaway.

John had never touched Claribel like he did me, she wasn't too happy when she found out about it. And I hated it. So much, he'd been doing it regularly for years now, and I wasn't sure I could take another second without simultaneously laughing hysterically and sobbing.

Around this time, something rose in me that I thought had died with Benjamin and Bee.

My magic.

I'd been exhausted and aching after a particularly rough night with an unnamed man and all I wanted was a glass of water. Really, I was desperate. It was pathetic. I was nearly crying in agony and thirst, but I just couldn't bring myself to move from the bed. No one else was there that night; otherwise I might have just asked someone.

Anyway, there I was, suffering away, praying for some water, when all the sudden I was drenched. It was like someone had poured a bucket of water on me. I was sopping wet from head to toe. At first, I was shocked and totally mystified, before I realized what it was. You can't even imagine how excited I was. It was like I'd lost my right hand in some accident, and then woke up one day with it suddenly grown back.

Here was my way out, here was my only hope. My pain forgotten, I leaped from my bed and immediately began attempting to call it back to me. I worked painstakingly for hours that night, and every chance I had I did. I would disappear into the bathroom some nights for hours and hours.

Oooooooooooooooo

I always wished Claribel was magic too. She wasn't, I could tell. She was 100% muggle, but everything would have been so much better if she'd been magic.

I got really good really fast, with my magic and all. A few weeks after the water incident I was levitating stuff and bursting things into flames, it was hard, after all, it was wandless magic. My parents always told me I had to wait to get a wand, but it didn't seem like that was going to happen. So, I took matters into my own hands.

I had been meaning to tell Claribel for a long time when she burst into the bathroom mid levitation.

Luckily for both of us, Claribel wasn't much of a screamer. She just stared in shock in the doorway, mouth opening and closing, looking at scruffy, fourteen year old me, right hand raised, tissue box floating in the air, I slowly lowered my hand, my eyes never leaving hers.

"Uh, okay, Claribel. Claribel, come in here? Come in and shut the door, alright? I don't want John or Ronnie coming in, you don't either, yeah? Come in, please." I managed to coax her in, she sat on the floor in front of me, and then she came out of her shock.

"What the _hell_, Harry?"

I had no choice; I told her everything, all about my parents, and my siblings, and magic, and Hogwarts. I went on and on, I even told her about Otis.

I told her about the fire, and she didn't seem convinced, "A fire? Killing wizards? I mean, Harry, wouldn't there be, like, spells on the house, or something? I mean, to stop it catching fire?"

This was something I had never considered.

"John, well Harry, you know better than anybody, John isn't exactly stable. He's not a dependable person, y'know? I mean, I just think, I'm not trying to get your hopes up, but he could be lying," she was looking me in the eye as she spoke, carefully measuring my reactions to what she said.

"Oh, God. My family, alive, I can't believe that. I mean, I've been grieving for years. You saw after John told me? Remember what a mess I was? What a mess I still am? Jesus, my brother and my sister…" my lip was quivering as I spoke.

Claribel licked her lips anxiously, "Harry, I know they're your family, but don't get too excited, I mean, I could be wrong."

"Oh, no. I mean, I know," but no matter what I said, oh boy, had she got my wheels turning.

Oooooooooooooooo

My magic was getting stronger, real strong. I was turning toilet paper to pencils when me and Claribel finally got away.

It'd been a pretty normal day, we had decided a long time ago that we would watch for any opportunity that came about and take it without hesitation.

So, that's exactly what we did.

John had left, saying he'd be back in a few days; I had the suspicion he was off in search of some other kids. Anyway, we were alone with Ronnie.

You have to understand, Ronnie wasn't a very bright guy, he couldn't read or do math, he spoke with a thick cockney accent, which I'm sorry to say rubbed off a bit on both me and Claribel a bit.

I was real good with my magic now, so when us three where all in the kitchen, sitting around the table, I levitated a bottle of some cheap bourbon over Ronnie's head, and with a "SMASH," he was unconscious.

Claribel looked at me, I looked at Claribel. We both darted to our room at the same time. We had each packed an emergency bag, in case opportunity presented itself, and hid them under our beds. I grabbed mine, Claribel grabbed hers, and we were out the door as swiftly as possible.

Dashing down the stairs, we took a left and jumped out the fire escape (luckily, this building was really rundown so we didn't have to worry about an alarm going off). Amazed, we hit the street, and starting full out sprinting, get _as_ _far_ _from_ _here_ _as_ _possible_.

Oooooooooooooooo

So there we were; me fourteen, Claribel thirteen, both of us living on the streets. We were desperate not to go back to prostitution, especially with us willing now. Claribel did, though. And so did I a few times, but not nearly as often as she did.

I would have been whoring as much as Claribel if I didn't have my magic going for me. I could steal us food pretty easily, I'd gotten good at putting up shields, keeping us safe from predators and cold weather.

Another thing I did was magic tricks. A street performer type gig, I would stand on the corner and do little things, not too impressive, 'cause I didn't want to draw too much attention to myself. I made a pretty good amount of money with it, though.

Oooooooooooooooo

On another normal day something horrible happened. It was one of the worst tragedies of my life.

I'd been looking for Claribel, she told me the guy she was going with today was gonna drop her off in this alley we hung around in when they were finished, so I was heading there. It was dreary out, which is usual, considering we were in London.

I reached the alley, it was probably four or five in the afternoon, not sure, since neither me or Claribel carried a watch.

I was walking down the alley heading to the spot we usually met in, at the other end, "Claribel?" I called to her softly, but I didn't get any response. I just assumed she hadn't gotten there yet.

So, here I am heading down the alley, when I walk past this trash can. I look back and realize there was somebody sitting there, laying, more like, in the corner created by the bin and the wall.

My whole body froze. My eyes bulged. I stared in complete and total shock. A horror like something I had never felt before was growing in my stomach.

Claribel. It was Claribel. I let out a noise somewhere between a sob and a gasp.

Her eyes were glazed and looking blankly towards the grey sky, mouth half open, her limbs sitting at awkward, painful looking angles.

No. No. No no no no no no no no no no no no no no.

I fell to my knees in front of her. I grasped her shoulders, shaking lightly, nothing. I touched her cheek and stroked her hair, "Claribel? Please. Please, Claribel. Honey, baby? Claribel? No. No, God. Oh, God. Goddamnit! NO!" I was crying now.

I don't know how long I sat there, clutching her body, sobbing my eyes out, before I heard sirens. Standing to run, I irrationally attempted to drag Claribel along with me. She didn't move. I let out a wounded noise, and dashed to the street, stopping at the opening of the alley and observing the scene before me.

The cops showed soon, I figure somebody saw her and called it in before I got there. They looked her over, examining her, all professional. I wanted to yell at them, to tell them how wonderful she had been, how she had been my only friend. I couldn't help the relief I felt at having dashed from the scene though. It _was_ everyday that a cop found a prostitute dead in an alley, but it wasn't everyday they also found a fourteen year old kid crying over her. I surely would have been taken in, then put in foster care or some other nonsense.

I didn't know what to do. I was alone, really, totally, completely, alone. I hadn't felt like this since John had told me my family was dead.

God. What if I hadn't taken her away? She would be unhappy, I know, but she would be alive. She'd be with John and Ronnie, she'd be miserable and self loathing. But, fuck. She would have been alive. I wandered around London, crying and crying, barely noticing anybody I passed by.

Oooooooooooooooo

**Chapter two. Hope you like it. **


	3. Chapter 3

Deadweight

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

Summary:  
Neville was chosen and is now the Boy Who Lived. Harry's parents were never killed, but Harry is kidnapped and forced into a very difficult life. Loosely based on the film "Gardens of the Night".

M-Mature.

"'_Don't you want to join us?' I was recently asked by an acquaintance when he ran across me alone after midnight in a coffeehouse that was already almost deserted.  
'No, I don't,' I said." -_FranzKafka

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

This is when things got pretty bad for me.

I felt horrible. I was guilty and grieving and… so fucking lonely.

I stopped hoping my family was alive. Claribel had been a dreamer, after all. She always had been. Always looking at the sky and thinking about some life we'd have some day. It was all her stupid idea anyway. There was no use in me getting worked up for something impossible like that. Besides, even if they were alive, they wouldn't want me anymore anyway. Not all fucked up like I was.

I stopped doing anything for a while; I was just wandering around London. I screwed up plenty of opportunities too.

"Hey kid. How's it going?" It was late out that night. This guy? Real tosser, mid twenties, mullet. I'd been walking the strip, smoking a fag, feeling like hell, and then this guy pulls up in some muscle car, "Alright," I said as I took a long drag.

"So," his eyes moved down my body, then back to my face, "How much?"

I didn't tell you before, but I guess I should now; I was also doped up bad while I was talking to this guy. Once Claribel was gone I started doing every drug I could get my grimy hands on. Lots of smack and blow, junk, E, angel dust, I tried to avoid crack and meth, but I wasn't really willing to pass up a high. Oh, some pills too; Oxy, Xanax, Ritalin, Vicodin. Like I said, anything I could get my hands on.

I was smoking more than I was eating and drinking every chance I could.

Well, anyway, there's this chav talking me up and I can barely stand up straight, so I say to him, "Lots. More'n you could eva pay. Too much fa you." I was giggling at him in a drunken sort of way and taking drags between laughs.

Needless to say, he was pissed, "Yeah? Fuck you kid. Have fun in fucking gutter, you slag!"

He started driving off, but I called back to him, "Hey! C'mon! Can't you take a bloody joke?" He kept driving, "Fuck you! Bastard! God DAMN it!" I kicked a nearby bench as I started looking for a place to sleep.

So, basically I'd quit the magic tricks and gone right back to whoring. I made some quick cash, dealing weed to local kids at some mall, and bought new clothes; tight jeans and tight t shirts with v- necks. I knew it was an investment, but it definitely paid off. I got more whoring gigs than I'd ever had, really.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I'd been walking around, looking to get picked up, when I ran into Benny. He was an alright kid, a bit dim, tall and lanky. Benny made his money the same way I did, the only people my age I knew were other whores.

Benny waltzed on over to me and starting talking, "Hey, Harry." His voice deeper than the last time I heard it, "How you doing?" He was looking me up and down, his voice had a sort of concerned tenor to it. I knew I look like shit. My hair was a disaster on top my head, my eyes were bloodshot. Also, I was thinner than I'd ever been.

I smiled at him, I knew he might be a bit worried, but nobody out here got too worked up over anybody but themselves, "I'm fantastic."

Benny smiled back, easing up, "So, where's Claribel? 'Aven't seen her around for a while, she alright?"

I was startled, to say the least, my cigarette slipped down my fingers, almost falling, "Haven't you heard?"

He seemed confused. Usually, I'd suspect somebody saying that to be fucking with me. Benny wasn't cruel that way though, he just seemed to genuinely not understand, "What you mean? She is alright, isn't she?"

I ran my tongue over my teeth, eyes on my shoes, "Benny. She's dead." It was the first time I'd said it outloud. I know it's silly, but I felt like my heart broke a little then.

On his part, Benny looked shocked. We talked about it a while, Benny probing for details that I didn't want to give. He gave up after a bit and we each headed on our separate ways.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

There was this boy I knew, around my age, maybe a bit older, who hung around this coffee shop that I used to do my street tricks in front of. Nate, he was a prick, and he was just as pretentious as his name sounded. Nate was always wearing expensive looking trousers and J. Crew sweaters, his hair styled with a neat part to the left, face totally spotless.

Me and him, we never got along. He'd bait me and give me shit and push me around. I wasn't the kind to let anybody get away with that.

I was walking past that coffeehouse, on my way to meet some dealer, so of course he had to be in my way.

"Hey, Harry."

I rolled my eyes and tried to brush past him.

"Well, you look simply horrid." He raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow at me.

"Fuck. Off. Nate." This time I managed to get by and started making my way down the street.

"I really miss your little _magic_ tricks on the corner here." He walked with me for a bit, so I pushed him lightly, hoping he'd get the hint.

It seemed like he had, since he stopped walking and let me continue. I sighed, all relieved. One person I didn't want to deal with (ever again) was Nate.

He wouldn't let it go though. So he called after me, "I heard what happened to your little girlfriend. It's such a relief to me when garbage like _that_ gets what's coming to them."

That did it. Like I said, I'm not the kind to let people get away with it.

I turned on my heels and walked back to Nate, fuming. "What was that, Nate?"

He smirked, "You heard me. That slut got exactly what she deserved."

I glared, "Funny for you to talk. Think you're better than all of us? With your pressed kaki's and prim button downs? You're not. For all your money and hair products, you're still no good slime."

Nate huffed, "Why, I-"

I cut him off, "I'll have you know Claribel was twice the person you are. Hell, she was ten times the man you could ever hope to be."

Nate was nearly growling in rage, "Don't you dare compare me to those dirty whores you hang around."

I was smirking now, "I'm just as much a whore as any of them."

He shoved me, "_Obviously_."

I shoved back.

He raised his fist to punch, but I lunged at him first, knocking him to the ground. The people around us were making room, wanting to stay out of it.

When we made contact with the cement something flew from Nate's trouser pocket, I glanced at it, then did a double take. It was a long pointed stick. I cocked my head quizzically before realization hit me like a blow to the stomach. Well, that and Nate hit me in the stomach.

I staggered up, eyes wide, staring at what I realized was a wand.

Nate looked at my face, then followed my gaze to the wand. _His_ wand.

He inhaled sharply, dashing to pick it up and pocket it.

I looked at him, awed, "Is that-? You're a-?"

He glared at me, clenching his teeth, and walked quickly away, banging his shoulder against mine aggressively.

I didn't see Nate again for a long time after that.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I was coming on 15 and was thinking a good gift for myself would be to get off all the drugs, 'cept the cigs, of course.

By the time my birthday rolled around I'd managed it mostly. It was hell though. Luckily I hadn't really been addicted to anything but the heroin. I'll tell you detox had been a real experience, and leave it at that. I'd managed to convince this girl I knew, Marylou, to let me stay in this tiny house she rented with a few other people for 'bout week to get off the smack. I'd had to bargain with her and her roommates pretty ridiculously before they agreed. I'd given more than a few blow jobs before they were convinced.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

So, after that I was feeling better than I had in a while. I spent money I would have spent on smack on a sandwich, I was craving a hit more than anything, but I figured I'd get over it.

I'd been having a normal day, besides the whole sandwich thing, and was been heading to meet these high school kids and sell them some coke. I was in a part of London I'd never been before, Grimmauld something or another. The kids had given me an address and I was looking for number seven when I noticed the sun was starting to head east and figured I'd have to spend the night on a bench or in a park around wherever I was.

I looked down at the paper again, scratching my head, thinking I'd gone a bit too far. When I looked back up there seemed to be eight or nine people standing in front of, what was that? Number eleven? They looked like they were waiting for something. One of them spotted me staring and starting speaking to the others. They all looked over then and starting acting casually.

I shook my head. This was definitely not my scene. I wasn't looking to get in trouble with a bunch of freaks like them.

I was about to turn and give this whole operation a big 'Fuck you!' when one of them, a middle aged redhead with a bit of a belly, seemed to take pity on me and started walking over.

This guy didn't look like he was even capable of having less than perfect intentions, but I'd learned looks could be deceiving. I was contemplating just turning around and running, but if all these adults decided to come after me I wouldn't stand half a chance.

So this ginger haired bloke reached me and said, "Need help, son? You lost?" He seemed weary. I used to adults being suspicious of me by now, so it didn't really bother me much.

I looked up at the man, and, oddly, he started. He looked intently at my eyes, took in my hair, then glanced over my body. I smiled at him, a customer?

"I was looking for number seven."

My voice pulled him out of his stupor. He stuttered a bit on his words, "Y- Uh. That's a bit down the way you came." His face was still openly shocked as he spoke, "What- What's your name, boy?"

This was weird. I could see all the members of his little cult looking at us from over the man's shoulder, "Well, what's yours?"

"Oh." He seemed surprised by the question, "Arthur. Arthur Weasley."

Weasley. That was familiar. I let it go after a minute's thought.

I was smiling again, all coy now, "Do you go by Art, ?" I help but flirt with the flustered man.

Art's mouth fell open and he pulled his eyebrows together, looking sorta nervous and even more suprised, "N-no."

"Ah," I pouted here, "Pity. I've always been fond of that name."

This guy, Arthur, he kinda does a double take here, looking me over again, like he's trying to figure something out. His eyes are all wide and I'm starting to think he didn't realize what I was at first, which makes for some pretty awkward conversation, so I try to leave. 'Cause like I said before, not my scene.

I turn saying, "Well, I better be off." And this Arthur grabs my wrist, turning me back to him. This I didn't like one bit, I yanked my arm away, "Don't touch me."

He still seemed frazzled, "It's just- What's your name, kid?"

What was wrong with this guy? I was starting to think I was gonna end up a human sacrifice with him and his creeps looming around.

"_Harry_." I sounded just as annoyed as I was.

Arthur got even more surprised now, eyes bulging, looking like he was gonna hyperventilate. I shook my head, about to take off, and Arthur reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wand. Yeah, a wand. I freeze up and gasp, looking from the wand to his face. _Weasley_! Of course!

"_Stupefy_!"

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

**Sorry to leave you hanging there, next update is not far behind!**


	4. Chapter 4

Deadweight

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

Summary:

Neville was chosen and is now the Boy Who Lived. Harry's parents were never killed, but Harry is kidnapped and forced in a very difficult life. Loosely based on the film "Gardens of the Night."

_"...then laugh, leaning back in my arms, for life is not a paragraph, and death, I think, is no parenthesis."_

-e.e. cummings.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"-can't tell them about this! Imagine what it will do to them if we're wrong-"

"The boy should not have been brought here-"

"Arthur what were you thinking? What if he's a muggle?"

"He wouldn't have gotten past the wards if he were!"

"And if he's a death eater?"

"Oh, Tonks, just look at him! How could he not be-?"

I woke up to all these voices yelling around me, feeling real groggy and confused, trying to figure out what the hell was going on...

It came back to me suddenly, the Weasley, the wand, and... magic! I nearly shot my eyes open, but figured it'd be better to evaluate my situation first. I'm happy to say my rucksack was still firmly strapped to my back, even though it was pushing uncomfortably into shoulder blades. I was stuck to this chair, couldn't move my arms, I figured it was some sorta invisible binding.

I slowly opened my eyes to see a bunch of people wearing robes running around all panicked. I blinked blearily, looking around. Some girl with pink hair noticed I was awake first, she gasped and elbowed this tall black guy next to her. Everybody in the room was looking at me now, some of them gasped when they looked at my face, which was pretty weird to me. There were only something like five or six people there now; tho two I said before, some greasy black haired man, two redheads, then this haggard looking old guy with like a peg or some shit and an weird glass eye. He starts walking (limping, more like) over to me, holding a wand in his hand. His face is all scarred up and worn looking, he gets to me and point the wand at my neck.

His voice is just as gruff as his face, "Alright, boy. What's your name?"

I gaped at him, "What's _my_ name? What's _your_ name! What the fuck is going on here?"

The man didn't let up, "This can be much harder for you than it has to be, boy. You answer my questions." He was demanding and authoritative sounding. A voice in my head shouted _'COP_!_'_

I kept my mouth shut. No way was I getting busted today, even if this guy was some crazy wizard cop, he was still a cop.

His eye narrowed, the glass one spun around looking to the back of his head and then back to me, "What were you doing out there? Where were you going?" The wand pushed harder on my throat.

I nearly sneered at him, but held it back, grimacing, "Look, I was going to number seven."

"_What_ _for_?"

"I know some people there! My friends." Not really, but no way this cop is finding out I was dealing to some kids.

"Moody!" Second redhead was talking, a round woman, "Let him alone. We don't know anything about him. We don't- I mean, ask him who he is."

The guy, Moody, I guess, never took his eyes off me while the woman spoke, "Well, then, what's your name boy? Eh? What is it! Is it, Harry? Is your name Harry, boy?"

What the fuck. "Yeah." A jab to my neck. "_Yes_. That's my name! Why are you asking if you already _know_?" There were some gasps around the room, people looking at me, all shocked for some reason.

He didn't ease up, "Your last name then? Tell me your last name, boy!"

"Why do you want to know?"

Moody growled, he pulled the wand away, then pressed it under my chin, "Tell me now! Is it Potter? Is your name Harry Potter? Harry James Potter?"

I stared at him, totally amazed. No one, I mean, _no_ _one _knew my last name. Claribel hadn't even know it, and certainly nobody knew my middle name!

I pulled my eyebrows together, "How- how d'you know that?"

The wand was immediately gone from my throat. I could move my arms again, everyone was staring at me.

"Moody! Don't release him, he could be lying-!"

Moody cut the black man off, keeping both his eyes trained on me, "He's not lying."

I was staring back at them, not understanding what was going on. The round red haired woman squealed and leaped forward to hug me. I froze in shock. She held me at arms length, sighed, then hugged me again. What. The. Hell.

"Arthur! Let's fire call Dumbledore! He'll get in touch with Lily and James," my head darted to them, they couldn't mean...?

"Yes, surely Dumbledore will want to meet with him first, oh this is so wonderful!" They headed out a door and into a hall.

The greasy man came forward, fuming, "Well, Potter?"

I frowned at him, "What..?"

He sneered, "Why did you do it, Potter? Were you bored? Living with your loving family? Couldn't take being spoiled for another second?"

Who was this asshole? "I don't know what you mean."

"Didn't like sharing the spotlight, Potter? Had to run off looking for an adventure?" He spat the words at me. He was obviously pissed, fuck if I knew why.

"What are you talking about!"

"Snape! Enough, we don't know what happened." the pink haired woman tried stop his rampage. Fruitlessly.

"Do you KNOW, BOY?" He was nearly growling, "Do you know what you put your family through? Your _mother_!"

I was getting pissed now too. Who was this guy to- Wait. Wait, "My... mother?"

Snape snarled at me, "Yes, Potter! Your mother!"

No. No. No! That was...No.

"You- My...my family?"

"Why so surprised, Potter? Think they wouldn't notice you were gone, eh?" Moody this time.

That was impossible. This wasn't happening.

I shook my head, "You must be- they can't be. I- _my_ family?"

"Of course your family! What are you on a-"

I cut off another of his rants, "My family. They're...alive?"

Snape scoffed at me, "Alive! Why wouldn't they be, Potter?"

My head kept shaking violently, "No. No. No, that's not- They can't be! It's not possible!" My outright denial seemed to confuse them, the black man, the pink haired girl, and Moody hung back. They stared at me, horror in their faces. Snape furrowed his eyebrows towards me, "You can't be serious, Potter?"

I took a shaky breath, "Sirius! He's-? And, and Remus? They're not..? And Bee! And Benjamin?"

It was pink hair who answered me, "They're alive, Harry. They all are." Her voice was soft, confused.

Oh my God. John had lied. Of course he had! How could I have been so stupid! I thought back to the day I was...kidnapped, I suppose that's what it was. I was kidnapped. I remembered the soda, it had been a bit chalky, and I'd passed out right after I'd finished it...

I let out a sort of sobbing noise, my hand covering my mouth.

It had all been for nothing. I remembered when I destroyed my Hogwarts letter, God, I could have come back years ago! They'd been waiting for me. They were alive. I brought my hands to my head, clutching my hair. I couldn't breath right. All the drugs and the sex... I'd ruined myself and my family was-! Tears streaked down my face now. I couldn't think to be embarrassed. I felt so nauseous. Without warning I bent forward and puked up the sandwich I ate earlier onto the tile floor. I wiped my mouth, and started openly sobbing.

Someone was rubbing my back, I couldn't tell who. I couldn't pull myself together.

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When I came to I was laying on a couch in a living room, a fire was going in the fireplace. I couldn't remember when I'd fallen asleep. I thought maybe one of them had knocked me out. The second I sat up somebody came in through the kitchen door. It was an old man, he was wearing purple wizards robes and matching hat. He came forward and sat in a chair across from me. His beard touched his knees.

"Hello, Harry." He was looking at me all concerned over his glasses, "Are you alright, my boy?"

I brought my legs to my chest, chin on my knees, I knew my eyes were red, "Who are you?"

He smiled, "Albus Dumbledore. You may call me Professor Dumbledore. We met when you were a child, I'm not sure you remember..?"

Oh. Dumbledore. Of course I remembered. I smiled at him slightly, thinking about a time me and Dad and Benjamin had visited him.

"Dad! Look!" Benjamin had been pointing at a suit of armor, thinking it was about the neatest thing in the world. I trailed back a bit, eyes wide, totally amazed. It was the first time either of us had been to Hogwarts, actually, it was the only time I'd ever been there. We were five. Dad had led us to a statue of a gargoyle and said, "Alright boys, say any sweet you can think of! Quickly!" He was crouched between us, a hand on each of our shoulders.

"Uh..." Ben paused, licking his lips.

"Cockroach Clusters!" I shouted, Dad tickled my side after I spoke. I screamed and giggled, squirming away.

"Fizzing Whizbees!"

"Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans!"

"Sugar Quill!"

"Ice Mice!"

"Chocolate Frogs!"

"Fudge Flies!"

"Acid Pops!"

"Jelly Slugs!"

I got it with "Blood Pops!" and was real proud. Dumbledore, Mr. Albus as I had called him then, was a nice old man who let us eat as many Sherbet Lemons as we liked. Me and Benj had a contest, seeing how many we could fit our mouths. I'd gotten to twelve before Dad put a stop to it. Dumbledore had been laughing joyfully the whole time, "I certainly cannot wait for these two to come to Hogwarts!" We grinned. At five, that was our greatest aspiration.

Chuckling sadly, I said to him, "Yeah, I remember." My voice cracked, I'm ashamed to admit.

He was smiling too now, "Harry, do you want to tell me what happened to you?"

I bit my lip, "I guess. I mean, I _could_..." I sounded unsure and worried.

Dumbledore fingered his beard, contemplating, "Well, Harry, what we could do, if it would be less painful for you, is use a pensieve. I'm not sure if you've heard of them? No? Well, it's a device that allows other people to view your memories."

I inhaled sharply, "I..I... Who would see them?"

He seemed sympathetic, not pushing me, "I would, You're -parents- would. Your Godfather, and Remus Lupin."

I sighed. Alive. All of them. It would be better if they saw. I couldn't tell them. I couldn't say it, "Yeah. Yeah, alright. I'll do it."

He nodded, stepping forward. Dumbledore explained the process, I nodded, allowing him to put the wand to my head. He extracted and bottled these funny wisps of silver and sat back down.

"Could- Could you show them the memories? Before they see me, I mean?" I wanted them to know what they were talking to. I wasn't going to let them think I was some good kid, the perfect son they'd been waiting for, and then tear them down, "But, look, some of it's...Well, pretty bad. Don't show them anything do bad, alright?"

He seemed a bit surprised and even more concerned when I said this, but he nodded anyway, "Of course, Harry."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

**Alright. Chapter 5: Family.**


	5. Chapter 5

Deadweight

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

Summary:

Neville was chosen and is now the Boy Who Lived. Harry's parents were never killed, but Harry is kidnapped and forced into a very difficult life. Loosely based on the film "Gardens of the Night".

M-Mature.

_"Truth, justice, honor. None of that's worth shit."_- .

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

I really couldn't take it. My whole world was shattering, I'd convinced myself all of this shit I was told was true. That way I didn't go around worrying "What'll my parents think of this?" or anything like that. I didn't have to worry about what the world, and what real fucking crappy people like Nate thought of me, cause all I knew was that the only people I ever really cared about were dead. Now all this was being torn apart. Like somebody through a baseball through the window that was my life.

Dumbledore left me sitting on that couch, telling me where the bathroom was, pointed to some magazines and books I could read, said he might be a couple hours before he came with my parents. He told me some of the people from before were in the kitchen if I felt up to talking, and that they might check up on me every once in a while.

So, the real problem with this arrangement was that I was alone in this room and they'd left my pack next to the couch. I'd freaked at first, thinking they mighta gone through it, but all my stuff was still there. Suspicious stuff, ya know? This was a bad move on their part, considering I was obviously some wild street tramp. I'd showed up on Grimmauld straight from a costumer, so I was all done up with a bit of eyeliner (I hated wearing the shit, but some guys, 'speccially this one I was with, loved it) and revealing clothes, minus the Doc Martens I'd managed to trade this kid some blow for. Expensive boots, but you know how it is with addicts.

Anyway, I was crazy upset, feeling like I was loosing my mind, and these weird wizard activist guys left me in the room with this bag full of drugs I'd meant to sell, telling me they'd be back in a few hours. What do you expect from a kid like me?

I was big on compartmentalizing, since I'd been through a lot of, let's say, "Tough times" in my life. So what I'd do is put all the sadness or anger or hurt or whatever away in some other part of my head and focus on sucking some guys cock or in this case doing a lot of dust (PCP, I mean). I know PCP was basically like a suicide mission, but it's what I needed now. Also, the only thing I had besides the coke and the PCP was heroin. So, I really couldn't let myself do that again.

Right, I ran into the bathroom and locked the door, pulling my bag open, I grabbed for the vial of liquid PCP I had and a pack of Marlboro's. I dipped the cig in the liquid, letting it soak a minute before pulling it out. I stuffed the pack into my back pocket, as I dried the fag a sec before lighting it, I took a deep drag and savored it.

I smoked half, knowing all of it would really fuck me up. I grabbed a clean cigarette and lit it, before cussing and realizing the smell would attract some of my keepers. So, I turned on the shower and the fan. I finished my fag and pulled out another, about ten minutes later the PCP started kicking in. It was really amazing.

You gotta understand that I always tried, especially when I was on the streets, not to get to into drugs like PCP and Acid and shit, I'm not gonna lie and say I didn't do them plenty of times, but I just want you to get that I wasn't about to get addicted to PCP. The last time I'd done it was about six months before this and I gotta tell you, this time was better.

I dropped my cigarette in the sink and slipped down to the floor, totally content to just enjoy the feeling. I closed my eyes and felt like I was flying through the sky on a magic carpet, when I got the feeling, like, the carpet was tilting and I was gonna fall off. So, I shot my eyes open, not really focusing on anything in the bathroom and I remained completely still. I had the same feeling though, also I had like a disconnect from reality. This is why I did the PCP, because I didn't want all these new, scary thoughts running through my mind. With the dust I could really only have individual thoughts, and they'd flow through me so that I couldn't focus on anybody but myself. I didn't really think much or anything, and I loved that.

Dunno how long I sat there, coulda been an hour, coulda been three, before I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, drifting into a euphoric sleep. To tell you the truth though, I wasn't necessarily asleep, more like unconscious. This is why when Dumbledore's people came looking for me and found me in the bathroom, they didn't have any trouble carrying me up the stairs and into a bed.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

When I woke up I was in a dark room; one closed window with black curtains, a rickety desk made of some dark wood, and a bed with no headboard. There was this dirty looking guy I didn't recognize sitting in a chair next to my door, sleeping. His wand was gripped loosely in his hand. He was snoring, his head leaning forward, and back with each one.

"The fuck..?" I muttered, before realizing that those people in the kitchen, Snape and them, must have found me in the bathroom. I winced, thinking it must notta been real pretty. Way to make a first impression. First sobbing in somebodies arms then getting fucked all the way to loosing consciousness on the bathroom floor, pressed between the toilet and the sink. I rolled my eyes, wondering how long I'd been out.

I looked over at this sleeping guy, not sure if I should wake him up. All I really knew at this time was that I had to take a piss. So, I by passed the guy and walked out the door, which was (oddly) unlocked. It was this big, long, empty hallway that I found myself in, dark as the room was. Luckily, there was a door ajar a few feet from the one I came out of. Peeking in, I saw a toilet and bath tub. I stumbled in and did my business. I took a while in there, really dawdling, and trying to clean myself up.

"-uld you have lost him?"

"You flaming moron, Mundungus!"

I heard these voices shouting in the hall as I finished washing my face, so I reached for a towel.

"-could be anywhere! This house is VERY dangerous!"

I sort of blinked at the door, thinking I should go out, but not really wanting all that wrath directed at me. When I turned off the faucet the shouting immediately stopped. Somebody rapped on the door and called, "Harry? Harry, are you in there?"

Sighing, I pushed open the door, all dejected.

There stood the pink haired chick, dirty guy (awake now), and someone who was vaguely familiar, I studied him, tilting my head a little. He had tawny brown hair and matching eyes, along with a good natured face, smile lines topping the whole thing off. I couldn't get over him, he looked so...He was smiling at me and tearing up. Where have I seen him?

_'MOONY_!'a voice echoed through my brain.

I gasped and he must have noticed how I recognized him, cause he chuckled, which made me smile back, even though his laugh sounded kind of like a sob.

"Hello, Harry." His voice was kind, exactly like I remembered.

I couldn't stop my voice from quivering a little, "R-Remus?" He nodded, I let out a breath I had been holding. Remus had been wonderful to me when I was a kid, you gotta know, Sirius was fun, and Benjamin loved to prank with him and my dad, and mom and Bee would always be found making arts and crafts and playing around the yard. I was welcome with any of 'em, course, but sometimes I just wanted to talk to somebody. Enter, Remus. We'd been close, real close.

Remus cleared his throat, lookin' all nervous, and said, "W-well, Harry. Your parents and Sirius and I wanted to talk with you? So, we'll go down to the kitchen?"

I barely heard him though, and just kept staring before (and this is really unlike me, you know) I leaped forward and latched onto him. I felt a couple tears fall outta my eyes, but it didn't bother me. I murmured, "Moony."

He froze up, all shocked, at first. Then he wrapped his arms around me and held on tight. We stayed like that for a while, then I let go and Remus held me at arms length, taking a good look at me. He shook his head, and ran his hand through my hair, "So much like your father." He smiled, then patted my back and steered me around, "Well, you smell awful."

I laughed, and muttered, "M'sure I do." I was so happy just then, you can't imagine.

We walked down to the kitchen, the pink haired girl, Tonks, and Mundungus had disappeared sometime during our greeting.

I looked up at Remus, licking my lips, "Did...Did you seem them?"

"See what?"

I hesitated, "The, uh, the memories."

His face fell a bit, before he nodded.

"Oh." I said feeling sorta sick all the sudden.

Remus furrowed his eyebrows, then put his hand on my shoulder, I looked back up to meet his eyes, "Harry, I'm so sorry. So very sorry."

Huh?

Before I could ask him what the fuck he was talking about we where there. I stopped in front of the door, and gulped. Remus smiled indulgently and turned the door knob, then forced me in.

I kept my eyes on the floor while I walked in, stumbling when Remus shoved me lightly. I heard a few gasps and real slowly looked up.

Then there they were. My parents. And Sirius. They all had red eyes, like they'd been crying. I just gaped at them. Mom was the first to stand, she had a handkerchief held up to her face as she ran over to me. She was a pretty and slender as I remembered, her hair was longer though, but still deep red. Her eyes were exactly like mine, our tears even matched. She engulfed me in a huge hug, sobbing and saying words I couldn't understand. I held onto her, tears falling down my face. She pulled back a little, and I saw my dad standing near us, his eyes huge and looking like he couldn't breathe. He did look like me, but older, with a fuller face and hazel eyes.

Mom looked back at him and smiled, still crying. She reached back and put and arm around him, her other arm never leaving my back. "Our boy." She whispered to him, "Our Harry."

I wiped the tears off my face, and eyed him. Mom gave a little push and suddenly we were pushed up against each other, I automatically wrapped my arms around him. He froze, like Remus had, then hugged me tightly, tighter then anybody had ever held me. "Harry. Harry. _Harry_." He spoke into my ear over and over again, I felt tears landing in my hair. I let myself cry on his shoulder. Probably ruined his sweater, doubt he cared.

They didn't let me go for a long time, both of them latching onto me, then holding me back to look at me, then pulling me into there arms all over again. Like they were afraid to let go, like I'd just disappear again if they did.

I didn't mind.

They finally loosened their grips enough to walk me to the table. Sirius was still sitting, only now he was openly crying. His hair was the same as it had always been, dark and wavy, brushing his shoulders, face had a few more lines. He raised his head from his hands and stared at me, sobbing. Then he jumped from his seat and gave me the messiest hug I'd ever experienced. He seemed unable to make any sound aside from a sob.

Once we finally settled down and managed to sit around the table they started talking to me. Telling me all about how they'd been and how they tried to find me and how Benjamin and Bee were. They'd both gone to Hogwarts. Benjamin would be going into his fourth year, me fifth. He was in Gryffindor, which was pretty expected. Beatrix was gonna be a second year, and (surprisingly) was in Hufflepuff. I guess it made sense though. She was a real kind heart, always worrying 'bout everything, making sure we were all okay. I mean, that's how she was when she as five, but I suppose she hadn't changed too much. I hoped, atleast.

Then they started talking to me about what they'd seen in my memories. This is hard to to talk about. I felt so ashamed and just... completely disgusting. Worthless.

Anyway, they tried to ask me some about it, but it was hard.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Not really.

"No one gave you...No one had any diseases? Right, Harry? You aren't...sick?" STD's. I didn't have any, thank God.

"Do you want to tell us about Claribel?" Laugh. I didn't want to tell anyone about Claribel. Nobody, ever. She was mine and mine alone.

"Are you addicted? We can help you." No. No, not addicted.

This is when we talked about drugs. A lot. They wanted to tell me how horrible they are and all about the effects they can have on you, especially muggle drugs. They called them poison, and told me they destroyed people. I knew this, really. I did. It just never really mattered, I mean, I was a whore on the streets.

It was my mom who asked, "Why did you ever do the drugs, Harry? If you knew how they could hurt you?" She was crying still, she'd never stopped really.

I chewed on my lip, head bowed, looking at them through my bangs, "I...guess I didn't have much to live for."

They cried and hugged me. I cried and let them.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

**Emotional Chapter. Next up, Benjamin and Bee.**


	6. Chapter 6

Deadweight

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

Summary:

Neville was chosen and is now the Boy Who Lived. Harry's parents were never killed, but Harry is kidnapped and forced into a very difficult life. Loosely based on the film "Gardens of the Night".

M-Mature.

"My feeling is that there is nothing in life but refraining from hurting others, and comforting those who are sad." -Olive Schreiner

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I was about to see my siblings for the first time in nearly seven years, and to say I was nervous was a real disgusting underestimation, cause I was near hyperventilating and twitching like I never had before. I was so anxious because the last time they'd seen me I'd been all wide green eyes and innocent outlook. Things really change. I mean, my most, like, prominent feature was still my eyes, all big and bright green, but the innocence thing was almost totally eliminated. So, I wasn't sure they would like what they see from me much. I was sure they'd be posh, attractive, educated kids. Just like I'd have been if I hadn't gotten taken away. I'm sure they thought I would be like I was, but instead they have this drug addicted street tramp. They wouldn't want to be seen with me, I was sure. Wouldn't want me at school with them. Not like I could blame them, not really.

We, that is me and my parents, were about to floo to their-No, _our_ house in Godric's Hollow. I just kept getting images of two upper class private school kids, looking down at me with a sneer, their noses in the air, I was thinking about Nate, mostly. We got to the house via fireplace (an interesting experience, not having done it for so long) and I nearly fell backwards when I looked around the house. Just like it had been, of course, but so grand. So lovely. It wasn't some mansion or anything, but just a good home. Clean, everybody having their own bedroom, nice furniture. I never really realized how I'd taken it for granted when I had it. Living in the gutter can give you a whole new appreciation for a lumpy couch and an overstuffed arm chair.

The place was impeccable when we got there, like it was obvious they'd been cleaning like mad for my arrival. My mom was wringing her hands, all nervous. Dad beaming at me.

"They're in the kitchen." His arm was around my shoulder, he led me through a swinging door and into the white and pale yellow kitchen.

Just like before, there they were. My Benjamin. I'd thought about him so much since I'd been gone. We'd been as close as you could get really. Did everything together, talked, played, laughed, and goofed off. He look like before, pretty much, but taller. He was around my height, despite the eleven months I had on him. Just as many freckles as ever, across his nose, on his fore arms. Big, round, hazel eyes and hair just as messy as mine but light brown. We had similar features, 'cept my nose was a bit longer, and his face was a little fuller, like our Dad's. He was leaning against the fridge, like too fidgety to sit. He was staring at me. Total shock.

Then there was Beatrix, she'd really grown up. She was still only twelve, but she was real pretty, small as ever, 'bout a foot below me. She'd cut her hair, the same dark red as my Moms, it went just past her chin and curled a bit. She was pale like me, like she'd always been, and without any freckles. Her face was heart shaped, her eyes looked just like Benjamin's. She was sitting at the table in the middle of the room. She had tears pouring from her eyes and she was staring, too.

We all stood there a minute, all staring, my parent's standing on either side of me. Bee broke the silence though, running up kinda like Mom had, but not sobbing. She stood in front of me for a sec and then suck in a real rigid breath and grabbed me around the neck, pulling me into her arms. I held her, looking down at the wavy red hair below me. Mom rubbed my back. Bee pulled me back after a few minutes and put her hands on my face, started stroking my cheek. I smiled at her. She laughed and hugged me again, "Oh, Harry."

She stayed next to me smiling and crying. I looked over at my brother, he hadn't moved, "Hey Benjamin," my voice was weaker and more emotional than I'd meant. Benj didn't have any tears in his eyes or on his face, which is why I was shocked when he let out a sort of sobbing noise and barrelled into me, holding me just as hard as Dad had. He whole body was shaking from sobbing the entire time he was clutching at me.

Thing is, Bee was only four when I went missing, so she didn't remember me as well as Benjamin did. It was like she sorta missed the idea of having another brother, but not really, like, me. So she hadn't really reacted like Benj did. He refused to let go. Like I said, me and him had been real close. Done everything together since we were babies. When I was gone it musta been a real serious blow to him, like a part of him was gone. That was how it was for me, at least.

So, Benjamin was howling and getting tears all over my neck and asking how I could have left him alone and crying and crying. And this started me at it. So I was crying too, bawling like him and saying I'm sorry I'm sorry, and I was alone too and telling him I'd missed him.

Soon my everybody had joined in, my whole family all hugging me from all angles. I was real sad then, but also, you know, happier than I had been since I was eight.

"BARK!"

I looked down and saw a multicolored mutt staring at us and wagging it's tail.

Otis.

I laughed a little hysterically and walked over, getting onto my knees and petting him. Either he recognized me or he was just friendly, but he jumped forward and licked my face.

My family behind all sort of laughed and cried and I gotta say, it was so good to be home. Cheesy, I know.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

My parents had told Benjamin and Bee what happened to me, everything, basically. This made me a little uncomfortable, them knowing all about the stuff I did. I mean, I'm sure they diluted it some, but how much better could you make prostitute sound, you know?

They did everything they could for me. They were really great. We spent a lot of time together, and I was happy about it and all.

Alright, I know saying this is gonna make me sound like an asshole. It's just that I didn't feel really... free. It's real tough, you know, going from doing whatever the fuck you wanna do, to being kept indoors and all. This house we were at was, like, super warded. Cause, apparently, last year Neville "Boy Who Lived" Longbottom had witnessed Voldemort coming back to life; more like getting body? Or being resurrected? I dunno. I guess he didn't have a body but now he does.

This surprised me a bit, since I'd met Neville once or twice when I was a kid, and he seemed like (don't mean to be blunt) a pussy. He acted all strong or whatever, probably because his grandmother was proud of him being so strong and famous (even though his magic hadn't really been strong at all, they figured he might have used too much stopping Voldemort, so he was still trying to recuperate) Neville was pretty pompous last I saw of him, and scared of almost everything. He had good intentions, I mean he'd seemed like a nice guy deep down, but he was sorta overshadowed by being raised as a celebrity.

Point I'm trying to make is that I'm surprised that Neville managed to survive against, like, the most powerful dark wizard ever. I remember him being terrified of Otis and hiding behind a tree for a good half hour.

Like I was saying, the house was warded, so I couldn't go anywhere at all. I was used to going to party's, drinking, and boy, I was used to the drugs. That was really killing me. They, my parents that is, had told me, strict as I'd ever seen them, that under no circumstance was I to touch another drug again. This was a real serious matter, especially after that disaster with the PCP. They'd searched my bag after that and taken all the PCP and most of the coke and heroin.. I say most, because I had a secret stash, I'd torn open the stitching and stuffed some coke and heroin in between the the lining and the outer fabric, then stitched it closed again. I know I should have taken it out, given it to them, but I couldn't. I wasn't ready to give it all up. I had to have some, just in case, you know? Besides, they'd just have destroyed it, and I paid money that I'd worked damn hard to get for that shit. Least I could do was sell it, I'm sure somebody at Hogwarts would buy. Teenagers, right?

I wasn't trying to getting any teenage wizards hooked or anything, but it's not my job to care about what they do with it once they buy. They don't get it from me, they get it from somebody else.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Harry! Come play with us!"

This was Bee, convinced I should take Quidditch up, since I had loved flying on the practice brooms you give little kids when I'd been small. I wasn't really up for it. It had been years and living in the muggle world had made the idea of flying on a broomstick seem totally insane. I'd give it a go, of course, considering that I'd loved flying so much when I was small.

So, I hopped on the broom, Cleansweep something, and slowly rose up. Then it hit. I looked down, and I was probably fifty feet in the air, but I didn't feel afraid. I was exhilarated, suddenly feeling amazing and more confident than I'd been in my life. I started moving around then, controlling the broom came easy for me, and I'd managed a few hesitant loops in the air, before I was feeling totally uninhibited. Then I stared diving, weaving around trees, doing all I could. I laughed out loud, holding my arms out, and then rolled in a circle, holding on tight as I spun around.

I heard whistling and laughing and clapping then, I looked down and saw my parents and Benjamin and Bee all cheering me on. I blushed and flew down to them, luckily landing wasn't too difficult, otherwise I could have been in a bit of trouble. I smiled at them, feeling shy and feeble and all, not use to attention like this.

"Wow, Harry! That was amazing!" Bee was grinning ear to ear, "You know, I always thought you would make a wonderful Hufflepuff," she winked at me.

Benjamin put an arm around my shoulders and said, "Now, Harry, you know that Gyffindor is the place for you! What's a badger against a lion? I'll tell you what it is; a dead , and a hungry lion," Bee glared at him, "Scrawny little things, badgers are. Not so filling."

Huffing, Bee said, "Gryffindor? No, no. Harry is no reckless, foolhardy, buffoon of a a lion! Listen here, Harry, Hufflepuffs are loyal, strong, quality people! Badgers are tough; lions are _cocky_!"

"What!" Benj was laughing, "Let me tell you! Lions are-"

Mom cut him of, "Oh, that is enough out of you two! No matter where you are placed, we will all still love you, son." She smiled and pecked me on the cheek.

"Besides," Dad put his arm around Mom's waist, "We all know Gryffindor's take the cake, anyway!"

Mom was trying not to smile, Bee was trying to argue, and Benjamin laughed loudly and said, "More like the cup! I'll have you know, Harry, that before I came to Hogwarts Gryffindor hadn't won the Quidditch cup since Charlie Weasley was at school! Second year comes around, I am made chaser, and boom! More goals scored than any Gryffindor game in five years! Glad to see that you're, well, _alright_ at flying." My mother rolled her eyes, "We need a new seeker this year, ya know."

I laughed, feeling pretty blown away at all the banter, "Well... I'll think on it."

My dad thumped me on the back, "That's my boy! A family of quidditch players!," He had (most likely fake) tears in his eyes, "What I've always dreamed of!"

A cocked my head, "Bee, are you on the Hufflepuff team?"

She sputtered at me, "Of course I am!" She smiled widely, "I am the keeper!" She sounded smug, "Only the _most_ _important_ player."

Benj groaned, "Again, really?" He looked at me, "She's always saying that, and I'm always telling her that all the keeper has to do is sit in a corner while everyone else plays. The chaser, however, is key! We have to score enough points to make sure that we win! Even if the seeker gets the snitch, doesn't matter if the other team is too far in the lead, nope, we have to keep the score up or-"

"Oh _really_? And just how do we keep the other team from getting 'too far in the lead'? The keeper! That's how!"

I considered this and them told them, "Well, from what I know, I'd say the seeker's the most important player."

Mom heaved a sigh, putting her head in her hands, and Dad was grinning, "Wonderful. Another argument. No one can agree on anything in this house!" Mom sounded distraught.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Hogwarts was going to start in a week, and I was nervous. I had no idea what house I was going into, Sirius had guaranteed I'd be Gryffindor, I was sure he'd started a pool, to tell you the truth. Remus had his money on Ravenclaw, considering all the books I'd been reading. I was reading 'em cause of how nervous I was, like I told you before. What with going to school for the first time ever. So, I was thinking I'd trying and learn as much as I could about wizarding law, and history, and all that. My family'd been giving me some lessons, on history and defence and things.

I'd gotten my wand a few weeks after arriving at Godric's Hollow, we'd gone to Diagon Alley, which was just as amazing as I remembered it being. I got my wand, twelve inches, olive and phoenix feather. It was really beautiful, I felt so incredible just holding it.

Like I said, I got basic lessons, spellwork even, because Dumbledore had told the ministry and all of those important government types about my "situation" and so they allowed me to use my wand outside school. With the wand and the spells everything was so much easier than the magic I'd been doing before. I was pretty good with the magic I was learning, caught on pretty quick, you know. That was a good feeling, I know it sounds shitty, but it was like there was something I could do well besides, fucking, selling myself.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Thanks for reading.

**IMPORTANT NOTE:**

**I've been thinking about the future of this story and decided that I may conclude it soon. The sequel I would right would be in a third person point of view, with Harry as the main character. Rather than writing first person from Harry's point of view.**

**What do you think of that? Should I do that? Or should I continue this story that way I have so far? **

**Please give me your opinion!**


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